I’m really struggling to write about this…

It’s not surprising, really. Not everyone gets to write about the day they died. Especially after the fact…

I was apparently working as a nurse in the local hospital when the piece of kit that I was touching exploded. I felt something slam into my temple, then everything went black…

They spent hours on me on the operating table. The surgeon decided to try something risky, replacing brain tissue. Only thing was, they didn’t check properly where it had come from. It was deemed worth trying, as it only seemed to be the connective tissue that had been damaged; not anything important…

I woke up after another 12 hours unconscious; they were worried I wasn’t going to wake at all.

I then stared down at my body.

“Stupid question… Why the fuck am I a girl?”

“You always were, Stacy. What do you mean?”, asked the doctor, concerned.

“Who the hell’s Stacy?”, I asked. “My name’s Dan. Daniel Bright.”

“Oh shit…!”

The hospital psychiatrist was sent for, urgently. She soon hurried up and sat next to me.

“Now, what’s all this about?”, she asked.

“You tell me! I got carted off to hospital after a car crash as a man, and I wake up like this!”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Daniel Bright. I’m a surveyor.”

A quick search for that name in the hospital records revealed a shocking truth…

Daniel Bright had indeed been brought in after a car crash, a few days ago. However, he had died on the operating table from his injuries. His organs and some tissue had been donated to the hospital. The ‘connective tissue’ used to repair Stacy’s brain had come from Daniel…

The psychiatrist showed me Stacy’s IDs from the hospital. He also showed me my face in a mirror.

He then said, “This next bit may be a bit of a shock. Please, prepare yourself; we’re here for you so don’t think you’re alone, ok?”

He then showed me my death certificate, and some photographs that the police had taken…

I’m not afraid to admit it, I howled. I wailed, pressing my face into the pillow to shut out a world I didn’t believe anymore…

When I next calmed down, there was someone very familiar standing at the end of the bed.

“April? What are you doing here?”

The woman flinched. Nobody had introduced her to me, but I knew her straight away.

“Have we met…?”, she said, hesitantly.

“I should know my wife by now”, I said. “My eyesight wasn’t damaged in the accident. Come on, Apes, you should know me by now…!”

April’s mouth dropped open, aghast. “Only my husband called me ‘Apes’. How did you know that?”

“Shall I tell them about the birth mark on your…”

“No!”, she shrieked. “You can’t be Daniel. You can’t be! He’s dead! Why are you being so cruel to me?”

“Apes, please…”

“Don’t call me that! You haven’t the right!”

Crying, the woman dashed from the room. Everyone else just stared at me…

Further testing proved that, somehow, Daniel Bright had come over with the brain tissue transplant. It should have been impossible, but somehow it had happened.

There were gaps in my memory; I couldn’t remember anything more than a couple of years back. I found that really frustrating, because I couldn’t remember April and I getting married. That seemed to really hurt, somehow.

“I can help you with that…”, came a voice.

April walked back into the room.

“Can you give us a minute, please?”, she said to the psychiatrist.

She got up and, warning April not to overexcite me, left.

April sat down in the vacated chair and quietly but firmly proceeded to tell me about ‘my’ wedding day. By the time she had finished, I was crying my eyes out and she was hugging me…

“You really are my Daniel…”, she said. Then she kissed me…

The hospital really didn’t know what to do with me.

Physically, I was healthy; I’d recovered completely from the accident.

Mentally was another matter.

Stacy had left the building; apart from the accident itself, I had no memories of her at all, now. Daniel, I had strong memories of the last few years, but nothing before that. I did still have all his skills, though; April put some papers in front of me, and I instantly picked out what was wrong with them. Somehow, I also had Stacy’s skills as well; a patient across the ward had a medical emergency and I dealt with it before any of the other staff got there.

April, being particularly perceptive, then asked me a question.

“Who do you want to be? You can pick and choose, now. Might be a bit of an issue with your surveyor’s certifications, as they are in Daniel’s name; maybe stick with being a nurse for now?”

 “Night school here I come”, I said. “I’ll take any choice that lets me stay with you.”

April smiled. “That’s what my Daniel would say…”

And this is why I got to write about the day I died. I wrote the eulogy for my own funeral. April said she couldn’t have put it better.

If anybody asked, I was there supporting my friend, April. The hospital had given me a few weeks off to recover; they also wanted me to recertify myself when I returned, which was standard procedure after an injury like mine.

I passed all the tests with flying colours. April was overjoyed for me. Then came the one thing I never would have expected in a million years…

“Make love to me”, said April. “You know how I like it…”